The Shadow Child: Illusions of Peace
by Sealed Envelope
Summary: 1 in SC. On Halloween, 1981, the lives of all the Potter children changed; Ryan Potter is loved for defeating Voldemort, Amanda is loved because of a line in a prophecy, but Raven, a girl with a lightning-bolt scar, is hated and cast into the shadows. AU.
1. Story Information

"_**The Shadow Child: Illusions of Peace**_**" Overview – Story Information**

**Story Name: **"_The Shadow Child: Illusions of Peace_" **Place in Series: **1 (Prequel)

**Rating:** T

**Beta(s): **HP Funny

**Extended Summary: **On Halloween, in 1981, the lives of all the Potter children changed; Ryan Potter is loved for defeating Voldemort, Amanda is loved because of a line in a real prophecy, but Raven, a girl with a lightning-bolt scar, is hated and cast into the shadows. The world thought they had seen the last of Raven Potter, twin sister to the Boy-Who-Lived, the night she ran away from her parents' house at five years old. But suspicions and thoughts can be wrong, and Zola Granger seems to know too much about Ryan Potter to be normal…

**Pairings:**

Pairings are currently undecided.

**Warnings:** AU

_**Information for the updating of this story can be found at l6ur6(dot)wordpress(dot)com/fan-fiction-stories/the-shadow-child/bk1/ . The entire story can also be found there as well.**_


	2. Protecting the Prophesied

**Chapter 1 –**_** Protecting the ******__Prophesied_

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* * *

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"_The One with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…"_

Albus Dumbledore stared as Sibyll Trelawney, the jittery woman who he had just been interviewing for the Divination Post at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, started to make a prophesy, and by the blank, yet crazed, look on her face, a real one as well.

"_Born as the seventh month dies, born to those who have thrice defied him..."_

Dumbledore focused intently as the woman prophesized the downfall of the wizard that had been terrorizing the wizarding world for the past ten years, intent on reviewing the prophesy in his Pensieve later, and doing all that he could to fulfill it. As of now, it could refer to either of the unborn children of the Potters or the Longbottoms.

"_And the Dark Lord will mark The One as his equal, but The One will have power the Dark Lord knows not…"_

Dumbledore turned quickly as the sounds of a scuffle echoed throughout the Hog's Head. The barman, Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth, had a hold of a cloaked man, and was wrestling him toward the door. His robe slipped, and Dumbledore's heart sunk as he recognized the face under the hood as Severus Snape's. No doubt that as soon as he was forced out, he would tell the Voldemort about the prophecy. This wasn't good at all…

"_The One will grow farther from parent and sibling, and closer to a new sister, feared and respected by many…"_

Noticing the attention that the two were starting to receive, Dumbledore erected a silencing charm around their booth, wishing that Sibyll had chosen a more private place for the interview. But then again, she couldn't have known that she would make such an important prediction.

"_And either The Dark Lord or The One must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives… The One with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"_

Sibyll's face cleared as she finished the last line of the prophecy. Dumbledore made a snap decision. "Sibyll, I would like to congratulate you on becoming the new Divination teacher at Hogwarts." He shook the newly appointed professor's hand, turned around and walked quickly into the warm June evening, robes trailing behind him.

* * *

Severus Snape stood on a hilltop, forlorn and cold in the darkness, the wind and rain whistling through the branches of a few leafless trees, shivering in the surprisingly cold August air. He was panting, turning on the spot, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, waiting for Albus Dumbledore. He had told Voldemort about the prophecy, but he didn't know what it meant, what it would cause him to do. Voldemort was going to go after Lily, the kind, caring Lily that he had loved for over ten years. He was going to kill her.

A blinding, jagged jet of white light flew through the air, and Severus dropped to his knees, his wand flying out of his hand and landing twenty yards away.

"Don't kill me!" he cried, panicked.

"That was not my intention."

Any sound had been drowned out by the storm, so Severus hadn't heard Dumbledore Apparate. He stood before Severus, his robes whipping around him, and his face illuminated from below in the light cast by his wand.

"Well, Severus?" Dumbledore asked coldly, and Severus flinched. He remembered thinking that Dumbledore was old, senile, and soft. He knew better now. "What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?"

"No – no message," Severus stuttered, "I'm here on my own account!" Severus wrung his hands. He imagined that he would look half-mad, with his straggling black hair flying around him. "I – I come with a warning – no, a request – please – "

Dumbledore flicked his wand. Though leaves and branches still flew through the night air around them, silence fell on the spot where he and Severus faced each other.

"What request could a Death Eater make of me?"

"The – the prophecy…the prediction…Trelawney…"

"Ah, yes," said Dumbledore. "How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?"

"Everything – everything I heard!" said Snape. "That is why – it is for that reason – he thinks it means Lily Evans!"

"The prophecy did not refer to a woman," said Dumbledore. "It spoke of a child born at the end of July – "

"You know what I mean! He thinks it means one of her children, he is going to hunt her down – kill them all – "

"If she means so much to you," said Dumbledore, "surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the children?"

"I have – I have asked him – "

"You disgust me," said Dumbledore. Severus had never heard so much contempt in his voice. He shrunk down slightly to escape from the accusing tone. "You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and children? They can die, as long as you have what you want?"

Snape said nothing, but merely looked up at Dumbledore. The truth was, he didn't. Potter had always been cruel to him, abnormally so, and his children were sure to be the same arrogant jerks that he was. But if it helped to protect Lily…

"Hide them all, then," Severus croaked. "Keep her – them – safe. Please."

"And what will you give me in return, Severus?"

"In – in return?" Severus gaped at Dumbledore. In return? Did that mean that he was considering his request? What could he give Dumbledore? He would do anything to keep her safe, even if she didn't like him at all. He still loved her.

"Anything."

* * *

Severus Snape, to his great shock, was given the post of Potions Master at Hogwarts, replacing Horace Slughorn, who was retiring. He was to tell Voldemort that Dumbledore didn't suspect him, and would use the position to bring information to the Death Eaters. However, he would really be spying _for_ Dumbledore. His position was extremely dangerous, but he would do it. He would protect Lily.

Lily, James, their twins, Ryan and Raven, and their two month old daughter, Amanda, meanwhile, went into hiding immediately, using the Fidelius Charm. They made their Secret Keeper their childhood friend, Sirius Black. Albus Dumbledore offered to be the secret keeper himself, but James was adamant, saying that if he couldn't trust Sirius, he couldn't trust anyone.

The war waged on, casualties increasing every day, and the death toll mounting higher. The Ministry was about to collapse, and hung on the brink for several months. The Order of the Phoenix, the society founded by Albus Dumbledore, was still fighting, but many had given up hope. More and more people joined the Death Eaters' ranks, hoping to avoid death by siding with the wizard who seemed to be about to conquer wizarding Britain.


	3. Hero on Halloween

**Chapter 2****– **_**Hero on Halloween**_

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The night was wet and windy, but the man had a sick smile twisting his face as he stalked down the street in Godric's Hollow. He glanced in distaste at a pair of children dressed as pumpkins waddling across the square. The shop windows were covered in paper spiders, and candles, all in the spirit of Halloween, lit the streets. He sneered in triumph. How fitting, that the day for evil spirits and fear would mark the day that the only possible threats to him, even if they were just babies, would be vanquished.

"Nice costume, mister!" a small boy exclaimed excitedly, pointing at the man's black, hooded cloak. The man sneered; the ignorant child thought he was a pathetic Muggle! That was the very thing that he, greatest wizard in history, Tom Marvolo Riddle, had tried to leave behind. He had left his filthy Muggle name behind, though, and now he was only known as Voldemort, the Dark Lord, or in the case of most, You-Know-Who. Yes, very few even dared to speak his name; he was even more feared than Emeric the Evil, or even Grinelwald.

The man known as Voldemort saw the small boy's smile falter as he ran near enough to see beneath the hood of the cloak, saw the fear cloud his pained face; the child turned and ran away. Beneath his robe, Voldemort fingered the handle of his wand. One simple movement, and two simple words, and the child would never reach his mother. But it was unnecessary, quite unnecessary. He was only here to kill the Potter twins tonight.

Earlier that day, he had arranged for Wormtail to volunteer to watch them; the parents had gone out, leaving their twins and other daughter with their _friend_. Friends weren't good for anything; they always betrayed you in the end. Wormtail, in a surprising burst of brilliance, had even confounded them to think that Black was still their Secret Keeper. It was just one less blood traitor for him to worry about.

He moved along a new and darker street, and now his destination was in sight at last, the Fidelius Charm broken, though they didn't know it yet. Voldemort made less noise than the dead leaves slithering along the pavement as he drew level with the dark hedge, and steered over it. He made his way to the gate, which creaked as he pushed it open, and moved up the walkway. Wormtail opened the door to the house for him. He was trembling in fear, the pathetic rat, but he had his uses…

"The twins are upstairs, My Lord," he said nervously. Voldemort did not answer him, but instead made his way up the stairs, looking in distaste at the tidy living room as he walked, Muggle contraptions set at seemingly random locations.

He reached the second floor landing, and walked into the twins' room, deciding that he would save the third child for later. He recoiled in disgust at the color choice: bright gold and scarlet, with patterns of lions across the top of the walls. He understood House pride, but this was revolting. He made his way to the cribs on the opposite end of the room, glancing from one baby to the other.

The one on the left, the girl with small black curls, was staring at him curiously, while the baby on the right, a boy with messy black hair, began crying loudly. Voldemort sneered at him; he had never been able to listen to the younger ones whining at the orphanage. He pointed his wand at him, intent upon silencing the annoying child first, and said the deadly curse. "_Avada Kedevra!_"

However, the girl, seeing the sickly green light heading towards her brother, stood up and took her first steps to move in front of the curse. The light hit her on the right side of her forehead, and froze. Time seemed to stop for a moment –

And then he broke. He was nothing, nothing but pain and terror. His very soul was being ripped from his body, his mind torn apart. He realized that he must hide himself before anyone else arrived, for the house had collapsed, and the wards would have alerted the Muggle-loving fool, Dumbledore. He must hide, far away from here, the rubble of the ruined house, where the babies were trapped, screaming, but far away…

* * *

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office on the seventh floor of Hogwarts, sucking on a lemon drop, and contemplating the problem in the wizarding world known as Voldemort. The prophecy said when the child that would defeat him was born, but it didn't say anything about when it would happen, which was problematic because many people were about ready to give up. Eleven years was a long time. He had been pondering for several minutes, stroking Fawkes, his phoenix, as he did so, when one of the curious silver contraptions that he kept around his office started whirring loudly, explosions of colors shooting out of the end.

Albus leapt up, alarmed, and quickly sprinted to the other side of his office, where Fawkes was resting on his perch. That particular instrument was specifically designed to react when one of the Potters were in danger. And judging by the volume, they were in great danger, indeed. He felt a flash of warmth as he grabbed one of the legs of his phoenix, and was transported to the Potters' house in Godric's Hollow.

Dumbledore let go of Fawkes as the flames cleared and sprinted toward the Potter residence, but he had barely taken three steps before a giant explosion rocked the street, almost knocking the Leader of the Light to the ground. When he looked up, he saw the wreckage of what had once been the Potters' home; dust slowly sinking to the ground and blowing away in the rain and wind, exposing the pile of rubble that had once been a house.

Albus Dumbledore rushed towards the lot immediately, Fawkes flying gently after him. He tread carefully once he had reached the destruction, making his way toward the sound of crying that was coming from the half demolished second story. Was it possible that the children were still alive? Dumbledore quickly and carefully climbed up the half destroyed stairs, and sprinted across the hallway to the nursery, leaping across holes in the landing. He reached the room, and quickly took in his surroundings.

The room was a mess; the ceiling was collapsed on one side of the room, all of the windows were smashed and the glass was littering the floor, the door was blasted to pieces, the cribs were a pile of splinters, and there was an empty black robe on the ground. Dumbledore moved cautiously toward the remains of the crib, where there was still the sound of a baby crying.

Dumbledore gasped. Ryan Potter was screaming at the top of his lungs, blood trickling down his face from two horizontal cuts across his forehead. It sort of looked like an equal sign, he thought wildly. He froze. Equal. '_The Dark Lord will mark The One as his equal'_. His gaze slid slowly over to the previously ignored robe on the other end of the room. His eyes flickered back and forth between the two. Could Ryan Potter have defeated Voldemort? His eyes wandered to the other twin, Raven. She wasn't moving, but as he looked more closely, he saw the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

Two loud cracks startled Dumbledore out of his thoughts, and he spun around to see Lily and James Potter staring around the house in horror.

"Sirius –" James half gasped, half snarled. "How could he?"

"Albus?" Lily asked quietly, her voice wavering. "Was – Did he – Are my children –" She broke off, unable to continue, and collapsed into quiet sobs.

"Relax, Lily." Dumbledore soothed quickly. "You're children are both fine. More than fine, in fact," Dumbledore hesitated, before pointing at the dark robe and saying, "Ryan Potter has managed to defeat Voldemort!"

They both gasped, then ran over to the crib where Ryan was still crying loudly. James picked him up, and rocked him slightly, while Lily ran her wand over his forehead, healing the horizontal lines. "Is that where –" she asked Dumbledore, tears of relief running down her face.

"I would assume so," he replied, sounding grave. "He'll have that scar forever; curse scars never fade. I have one right above my left knee that's a perfect map of the London Underground."

Lily and James stared at him for a moment before turning their attention back to Ryan, praising him and making him giggle, choosing to ignore the ruined house, and the fact that their friend had betrayed them. They only focused on the fact that it was _their son_ that defeated the man who had been terrorizing the wizarding community, and it was _their son_ who brought hope back to the wizarding world. Eventually they brought Amanda in too, because Voldemort wasn't completely dead, and the prophecy said that The One's _new_ sister, obviously meaning the youngest, would help him defeat Voldemort in the end.

However, no one checked to see whether Raven Potter was all right. No one held _her_, because it was _Ryan_ that needed to be adored and spoiled. After all, she was nothing in the face of her twin brother, the Boy-Who-Lived.


	4. Birthday in a Ballroom

**Chapter 3 – **_**Birthday in a Ballroom**_

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Ravenala Potter, only known as Raven, sat in her room, trying to ignore the noise and excited shouts that came from her twin's fifth birthday party that was happening downstairs. It wasn't as if she was important enough to have a birthday party, unlike her brother. She fought back the tears in her eyes; they didn't do anything. It had been this way as long as she could remember. Everyone only cared about Ryan, the Boy-Who-Lived. Only her godfather, Remus Lupin, cared about her.

Her head snapped up as someone knocked on her door. Speaking of Remus… Raven walked to the door and pulled it open, smiling as she saw her godfather standing there. She had known that it was him; he was the only person who bothered to knock, but it was nice anyway.

"Uncle Moony!" she squealed excitedly as she leapt up into his arms. Raven looked her godfather, studying his features. He had sandy-blonde hair that was streaked with just a little more grey than the last time she had seen him, bright, amber eyes, and a young, yet lined, face. He looked exhausted. It was a full moon tonight, she remembered. Her godfather was a werewolf, though not many knew it. He didn't act like many of his kind did, instead choosing to blend in with humans as best as he could.

"Hey!" he chuckled now. "How are you, cub?"

Raven's smile faltered for just a second, before she was grinning again. "I'm just fine now that you're here, Uncle Moony."

"That's good," he said, putting her down on her bed and reaching inside his pocket. "I've got something for you." He pulled a medium-sized package from his coat pocket and gave it to her. "Happy Birthday!"

"Thanks Uncle Moony," she said quietly. Remus was the only person that got her a present on her birthday, at Christmas, or any other time. Not even her parents ever got her anything. He was the only person that recognized that it was her birthday at all.

She had just reached to unwrap it, when her father's voice drifted up the stairs: "Oy, Moony! Where are you?"

"Come downstairs with me?" Remus asked her quietly. She hesitated a minute, then nodded, sliding her present halfway under her bed. "Coming, Prongs!" Remus called. He took Raven's hand and led her downstairs.

As they stepped down the final stair, the tall figure of her father approached, ruffling his messy black hair. "Hey, Moony," he greeted. "I'm glad you could make it –" he broke off, seeing Raven. "What's she doing out here?"

Spotting the unreadable expression on her godfather's face, Raven left the two of them in the hallway, and walked into the Potter Manor ballroom, where the party was taking place. There were at least three hundred people there, wearing brightly colored robes and laughing loudly, all of them there to see the Boy-Who-Lived. Raven shrank back slightly; she had never liked crowds. She wandered about the large party for a while, instinctually seeking out the least crowded part of the room. Surprisingly, and perhaps unfortunately, it was the area surrounding her brother. Ryan was in a corner of the party that was filled with toys, and was playing with some other small children. Two Aurors guarded the area. Taking advantage of the fact that almost no one was aware that she existed, she walked over. All she would have to do was pretend to be a fan girl of Ryan, and the guards would let her into the play-area.

Just as she thought, the Aurors took one look at her, and stepped aside. Moving quietly, she headed toward the opposite side of the play area from her bigheaded brother and his fan club.

Raven looked over the toys that the other kids had discarded: some building blocks, a book on history, a dollhouse, a potions kit… Her eyes lit up at the last one, and she grabbed the kit. She opened it up, reading the instructions for the one potion that the kit would tell her how to make, a Hair-Coloring Potion. It wasn't something that she would want to make, but it was still a potion, and she might even be able to slip it into Ryan's food, and have a quiet laugh. Raven took the cauldron, lit a fire (unfortunately, it wasn't real because some kids were clumsy), and poured in some water. Carefully and deliberately, Raven cut up the ingredients, added them, and stirred them, just as the instructions told her to do, and was pleased when it turned the exact color that it was supposed to be, a pale green. Raven was just about to add the last ingredient, lacewings, when an annoying voice came from behind her.

"Look, it's _Wittle Waven_," her brother sneered. Raven dropped the lacewings in the now crimson liquid, turned around, and glared at him. He and another boy with red hair and freckles were standing in front of the rest of the children, who were all watching the scene with interest, and laughing at his stupid joke.

Raven raised an eyebrow. "What do you want, Ryan?" she asked coldly.

"Well," he said slowly, as if he wasn't sure. Raven wasn't fooled. "I want that potion that you made for me."

Raven knew that she should give him the toy. He would get bored of it quickly, and might even burn himself if she was lucky, then she could go back and maybe he would leave her alone. But yet… she was tired of always doing things because Ryan told her to, tired of her life being shaped around her brother. And Raven realized that she wasn't going to listen. "No."

Ryan kept smirking for a moment, most likely because he hadn't comprehended what she had said yet. Then his mouth fell open. "What?"

Deciding that since she was going to be in trouble already, she might as well get as much enjoyment out of it as she could. "You heard me. No. Are you deaf as well as stupid?"

Ryan's mouth fell open even farther, and his posse gasped. Raven smirked slightly. Ryan closed and opened his mouth a couple of times, looking remarkably like a fish, before spitting out, "I'm the Boy-Who-Lived! You would be dead if it weren't for me! Give it to me!" It had transgressed to a full-blown temper tantrum; he was even stomping his foot!

Raven wondered what to do. She didn't want to cause a scene, but she didn't want to give it to him either. Slowly, a smile spread across her face. "Well," she smirked. "If it means so much to you…" Raven grabbed the potion, which had finished boiling and was now usable, and hurled the contents at his head. His hair started changing colors immediately: red, purple, green, yellow…

Everyone gasped again, and Raven instantly knew that she had gone too far, and yet she couldn't bring herself to care. She had turned away, looking for something else to do, when she felt someone's hand clenched painfully on her arm. She spun around, mouth already open to give Ryan a piece of her mind, and came face to face with her furious father. She closed her mouth again. It appeared that her and Ryan's squabble had attracted the attention of the rest of the party. Raven's mother was standing a few feet away, glaring at her as she held Raven's almost four-year-old sister, Amanda. A woman Raven recognized as Augusta Longbottom was standing a little farther away, holding her grandson Neville's hand, both looking anxious. Remus was nowhere to be seen; previously unnoticed to her, the sun had set, and the moon had rose. Moony was most likely locked in his basement, leaving her to nervously turn her gaze back to her father.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?" James half yelled, and half snarled, pointing at Ryan, who had started pretending to cry. Raven resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She opened her mouth to reply, but James interrupted her angrily. "I THOUGHT WE TAUGHT YOU BETTER THAN TO BE SO MEAN TO YOUR BROTHER! ALL HE WANTED TO DO WAS PLAY WITH YOU, AND YOU CALLED HIM STUPID AND THREW THINGS AT HIM! THAT'S THE LAST THING THAT A BOY WANTS TO HEAR ON _HIS_ BIRTHDAY! YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF! GO TO YOUR ROOM!"

Raven could see several things wrong with James' speech, including the fact that her parents never taught her anything, Ryan certainly did not want to play with her, and it was her birthday too. However, she wisely kept her mouth shut, and headed towards the door, angrily ignoring the stony glares that she received. She was fuming. Everything was always about Ryan; if Raven did something right, it was automatically assumed that Ryan did it, and if Ryan did something wrong, it was assumed that Raven did it.

In fact, she was so angry that she didn't notice the man standing right in front of the door until she bumped in to him. "I'm sorry, sir," she apologized immediately.

"Arrogant Potters," he muttered angrily, smoothing his dark black robes. Raven didn't recognize the man; he had oily black hair, a pale face, and a slightly large nose. However, the man made a good point.

"I would have to agree with you," she said.

The man blinked once. Then: "Aren't you a Potter, though? Raven?"

"Unfortunately," she sighed. "Since you obviously know who I am, may I know your name?"

The man hesitated, before saying, somewhat reluctantly, "I am Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Severus Snape? She knew that name from the stories of Hogwarts that she had overheard her father tell Ryan; he was the boy that her father had picked on all seven years. That would explain his obvious hatred of her family. She didn't care about that though; there were much more important things than family grudges. "You're a Potions Master?" she asked excitedly.

The man – Severus – looked surprised. "Most children would be obsessed over the fact that I work at Hogwarts. I would expect the child of a Potter to be the same way."

Ignoring the obvious insult, Raven waved him off. "Well yes, that's pretty interesting, but a Potions Master!"

Before she could say anything else, however, her father appeared beside her, grabbed her ear, and dragged her out of the ballroom.


	5. Escape from Envy

**Chapter 4**__**– **_**Escape from Envy**_

"I thought I told you to go to your room," James said angrily as he dragged Raven up the stairs and into her room. "You didn't listen to me. Instead, you took it upon yourself to have a conversation with _Snivellus._" Raven whimpered slightly as she slipped and slammed her head on the banister, but they didn't stop.

As soon as they reached her room, her father shoved her roughly onto the floor, and aimed a sharp kick at her side. Raven yelped as James kicked her again in the stomach. She scrambled to try and get away, but James sent his leg crashing into her chest yet again. Eventually, James started speaking. "This is for hurting your brother," he hissed, his words accompanied with another blow. "This is for disobeying me." Another kick, this time on top of an already developing bruise. Raven's tears were running freely now, and she was sobbing hard. "This is for being friendly with my enemy." James' feet made contact with Raven again and again. It seemed as if everything she, or more importantly, Ryan, had done wrong, was being turned into the pain stabbing across her torso. She was screaming now; she wondered why people hadn't come to help her. Did people really not care? After what felt like an eternity, the onslaught stopped.

"You'll never be as important as your siblings. You don't belong here," James hissed at her before exiting the room, slamming the door behind him. Still lying on the ground, Raven listened as James' footsteps faded away; most likely back toward the party, the party that was apparently more important than her. Raven listened to the sound of her heartbeat as she lay, bleeding and bruised, on the ground.She felt each pound as it jarred her chest, causing pain to flare. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Why did James hit her? Yes, he was James now, not dad. She had never really considered him family before, nor the rest of the household, but she just used the title. She wouldn't anymore. Fathers wouldn't hit their children. At this point, Remus was more of a father than James was. What did she do wrong? Yes, she knew that James and Lily didn't like her much, preferring to pay attention to her other, better, siblings, but did they really not love her?

Raven didn't know how long she lay on the floor, but after a time, the pain seemed to dull. She shivered as she felt something brush up against her. She pried open her eyes a millimeter, and gasped, ignoring the sharp jab of pain that came with the motion. Raven's skin was glowing with a soft gold and silver light that was flowing across her skin, partially healing her injuries wherever it touched. Slowly, the light faded, and Raven couldn't see any blemishes on her skin anymore. Raven sat up, and winced; even though she couldn't see the bruises and cuts, she could still feel them. Raven had reached out her arms to attempt to stand up, when her hand brushed up against something. Upon closer inspection, she realized that it was the present that Remus had given her earlier.

Feeling slightly excited and curious, Raven ignored the pain shooting up her arms and tore off the paper. Inside was a beautifully decorated bag. It was a rich black color, with an embroidered design made of browns, blacks, and grays. Despite the dullness of the threads, the design still seamed full of color and life. Raven's fingers slowly traced across the fabric, and accidentally dislodged a folded piece of parchment that fluttered slowly to the ground. Raven picked it up, opened it, and began struggling to read the flowing text that she recognized as Moony's.

_Dear Raven,_

_ Happy Birthday! I hope you like my present! I know how Ryan constantly tries to steal your toys, so I especially charmed the bag so only you can open it. I also made it bottomless and feather-light. Inside the bag, I put another part of your present, a Muggle bow and some arrows. I know that stories about Muggle history fascinate you, so I went and bought you this. Maybe I'll teach you how to actually shoot it when you're older._

_With Love,_

_Uncle Moony_

Raven stared at the parchment, a thousand thoughts racing through her head. Uncle Moony had always seemed to know exactly what she liked, or in this case, needed. She would rather have his presents than the hundreds that Ryan always seemed to receive from almost complete strangers. Now, as Raven looked at the bag that Remus gave her, she let herself completely plan a possibility that had occurred to her once or twice, but had been pushed to the back of her mind.

Raven knew that she had always been less than welcome here. She had more than once considered leaving, but she knew that she was too young, and living here wasn't _too_ bad. It was better than starving on the streets anyway. Raven would just bide her time, waiting for when she could go to Hogwarts and make her own path. But now, she knew that staying here would just keep getting worse and worse. It might even go too far, and then she would end up dead.

Raven walked over to the old desk in the corner of her room, the only furniture in it besides her bed. She removed a stack of parchment from one of the creaking drawers and a quill from another. She pushed her glasses farther up her nose, toward her bright emerald eyes, and brushed a lock of curly black hair out of her face, before slowly penning a note to her ex-family, and a separate one to Uncle Moony. That was the only regret she had about leaving; she knew that Uncle Moony would be watched, so she wouldn't see him for a really long time. Raven blinked back tears; they wouldn't help her.

Raven left the notes on her bed; they would notice her absence eventually, most likely when she didn't come to do some trivial chore, and Moony would come up here sooner or later.

Raven turned around, picked up her new bag, and snuck downstairs, taking care to move quietly in case someone heard her. Her face flushed in anger as she realized that _everyone_ knew that she was supposed to be in her room, thanks to James' display. Speaking of James, on the way down the stairs, she stopped by his and Lily's room. It was the least that she could do to repay James, she thought, as she tucked his invisibility cloak, a solid black hooded cloak that resized itself, and a couple of other things inside her bag. The bag was still the same weight, thanks to the feather-light charm Uncle Moony had put on it.

Raven's next stop was the kitchens. She had always had a special fondness for the two house-elves; they didn't care whether she was famous or not, as long as she was a Potter, they would do anything to make her happy.

"What can Jiggy do for Miss Raven?" the first of the creatures asked as soon as she stepped inside the kitchens.

Raven was careful; she knew that no matter what she told the elves, they would go tell James or Lily immediately if she was planning to leave. "I would like some food please," she said, specifically not saying why. "If you don't mind, could you make the food last a while?" Raven always tried to be nice to the house-elves; she never knew if it would pay off later.

Jiggy nodded energetically, and she and the other house-elf, Piffy, immediately started moving around the kitchen. Five minutes later, Raven left the kitchens, her bag filled with about three weeks worth of food.

Raven made her way back to the main entryway of the house, checking to make sure no one in the ballroom was watching before darting across the room. Raven pressed her hand against the door, glancing around nervously as the wards recognized her and opened the door slightly allowing her to leave. Unnoticed, she slipped out the crack of the door, and still limping slightly, made her way to the old broom shed just a little way away from the door.

On the door of the wooden shed, a metal padlock was glinting in the moonlight, reflecting the stars onto the grass. Raven bit her lip, panicking slightly for a minute; before she spotted a medium-sized stone a few feet away. Raven picked up the rock and smashed it once, twice, three times against the metal, before the lock smashed and fell to the ground. Raven stared at it, perturbed. She would expect that the shed should have more protection than that, but she eventually realized that they probably wouldn't mind if Ryan went for a flight, and didn't think her smart enough to be able to open it. Raven shrugged, opened the door, and entered the shed. She blinked.

There were rows and rows of brooms in the shed, more than fifty, at least. It seemed that brooms were a popular gift for the Boy-Who-Lived. She sighed, astounded by the amount of money that wizards were spending on her ex-brother, and to a lesser amount, her ex-sister. She quickly spotted the newest-looking one, and grabbed it from the shelf, before leaving as quickly as she could; she didn't need to spend any more time looking at how spoiled Ryan was. It was then that she realized that she had no idea how to fly.

James had taught Ryan to fly as soon as he could walk; heck, Raven wouldn't be surprised if he was flying _before_ he could walk. But there weren't flying lessons for Raven; she had been expected to stay inside and play with Ryan's broken toys. It seemed easy enough though, and if Ryan could do it with some degree of success, then so could she.

She awkwardly mounted the broom, and pushed off from the ground. She wobbled for a moment, but she felt herself naturally shifting herself so her weight was evenly distributed. Raven felt her hesitance vanishing, and she slowly floated a few feet higher. She didn't seem about to fall off, so she moved higher and higher. Soon, Raven was about as high as the tallest part of Potter Manor, and she felt wonderful; flying was amazing. She could see everything from the sky, and seemingly right above her, the sky rolled out above her like a blanket, the stars and moon forming an intricate pattern that wasn't visible from the ground.

Raven grinned, and flew as quickly as she could away from the manor, leaving her unhappy childhood behind her, and not looking back once. A pair of dark, tunnel-like eyes watched with an unreadable expression as she flew off towards the full moon.


	6. Fear in a Forest

**Chapter 5****– **_**Fear in a Forest**_

Raven had been flying for several hours, the moon directly overhead, not knowing exactly where she was going, only that she should go as far away as she could. She had flown over several Muggle towns, staying above the clouds, and the urban landscape was peeling away to reveal rolling grasslands and evergreen forests.

Raven felt her eyes drooping as time passed by, and after she had fallen asleep for a couple seconds causing the broom to spiral out of control, she decided that she had safely gone as far as she could. Raven lowered the broom slowly, eventually landing amongst the trees of the forest that she had been flying over for several miles. It was far away from the lights of the cities, and out of the sight of prying Muggle eyes.

Her head foggy with exhaustion, Raven stumbled over to the nearest tree, a rather small one that provided some protection from the wind that had picked up, and collapsed. Delaying only to pull the hooded black cloak out of her bag to cover herself up, Raven closed her eyes and drifted into sleep.

She was walking up a dark pathway that she could recognize instantly; up ahead was the house she could recognize instantly. It was the house of the family that used to be hers. Nothing had changed in six years; she was eleven years old now.

_ She was wrapped in a dark travelling cloak, to any untrained eyes, it looked like it was solid black. In her hand was a wand, and she sensed that it was extremely powerful; it felt like it could take down anything at all._

_ Deep in the back of her mind, Raven knew she was dreaming, but that didn't stop her from pushing open the door that was all that stood in her way now. As she stepped through the door, she knew exactly where to find the people that she was looking for; there was only one place they would be at this time. Raven ascended the stairs, and reached her destination, Ryan's bedroom._

_It was disgusting, how big the room was, and how much he had in it. It was at least four times the size of her old room, probably more, and was furnished with the most expensive furniture money could buy. Where as Raven had a small, creaky bed, a small wooden table, and no toys, Ryan had several tables, dressers, portraits, and mirrors. The walls were lined with moving toys; all of them asleep now, and his room was littered with discarded playthings that he had used once or twice before throwing on the polished hardwood floor. Ryan was lying in an elegantly carved wooden king-sized bed, with silk hangings draped along the edges._

_James, Lily, and Amanda were in the room as well, the parents tucking him into bed despite the fact that he was eleven years old, and Amanda smiling happily. They all turned around, shocked and somewhat scared, when she entered the room. She snorted. They probably thought she was a dark wizard coming after their precious Boy-Who-Lived. In one swift movement, she pulled off the hood of her cloak, put the wand away, and pulled her bow from her back, immediately knocking an arrow to it. They gasped in fear and surprise._

_Lily got down on her knees. "Please, Raven. We're so sorry!" she said. Raven smiled vindictively as James mumbled in agreement and Ryan was practically bawling. Amanda had backed into the corner, a frantic look on her face._

_ "Not bloody likely. Goodbye, _family_." Raven spat the last word in disgust and rage as she pulled the arrow back, aimed, and let go. _

_Snap._

The noise rang throughout the forest, and Raven's eyes snapped open as a low growl tore across the trees. She sat up nervously, mentally cursing herself. She should have known that she wasn't the only living thing in the woods. Another cracking sound echoed amongst the trees, and now that she was fully awake, she recognized the sound as a snapping twig. Raven didn't want to stay around to find out what the sound was, so she grabbed her bag and sprinted away from the sound as fast as she could. She wasn't fast enough, though; she had barely gone five steps when a large, menacing, and hairy _something_ leapt out of the bushes at twice her speed.

Realizing that she wouldn't be able to outrun what ever it was, Raven ran back to the tree that she had slept under and climbed up it as fast as she could. It should have been easy; she had escaped Ryan and his cronies more times than she could count by climbing up a tree. However, in her panic, Raven's hand slipped, and she slid about ten feet down the trunk, just far enough for the animal to leap up and sink its teeth into her left leg. Raven screamed, and let go of the trunk, falling the rest of the way down, and landing on top of her attacker. It leapt back several feet, spitting and snarling, and Raven saw the moonlight reflecting off of several pointy, yellowing teeth.

Raven paled. Moonlight. Full moon. That was a werewolf. It had bitten her. She was a werewolf. She was going to go from werewolf to dead if she didn't move.

With increased panic, Raven practically flew up the tree again, ignoring the pain now shooting up her leg. Raven climbed as high as she could, trying to put as much distance between her and the monster as possible. The animal growled, and threw itself up into the air, missing the branch she was perched on by only a couple of feet. Raven looked around desperately for anything that might help her as the werewolf leapt again, this time getting even closer. Her bag slipped as she backed away, closer towards the trunk, and the contents spilled out. Some of the food and clothing fell onto the ground, the invisibility cloak was caught on a branch near the ground, and Moony's other present, which she had yet to see, was hanging from the branch that she was currently standing on.

Raven grabbed the bow and the quiver of arrows and pulled them up out of harms way. She had read about how to use one, and held the bow in her left hand as best as she could remember. She carefully pulled an arrow out of the quiver and got it notched onto the bow on her fourth try. Raven pointed it down at the werewolf, which was thankfully sniffing some of the preserved meats that she had brought. She tentatively pulled the arrow back, not at all sure what she was doing, and released the string. The arrow dropped downward immediately, not going anywhere distance-wise; she didn't put enough power behind it, and landed on the werewolf's head. It's head snapped up, growling, and turned its burning amber eyes on her. Raven whimpered, both from fear and the steadily increasing pain in her leg, and struggled to notch another arrow. The werewolf was pacing hungrily, and had just started running towards the tree when Raven released the arrow again, much harder this time.

Raven screamed as the bowstring snapped back, much faster than she could see, and smacked against her left arm, and lost her balance. In what seemed like slow motion, Raven fell out of the tree, yelling as the branches whipped against her skin and the almost-healed bruises, and landed on the ground with a crunch. She was pretty sure that she had broken something.

Raven scrambled to her feet anyway, prepared to run, because she was sure that if she didn't, the werewolf would be on top of her in a second, preparing to kill. However, when she looked hurriedly at where it had been preparing to leap at her, there was no movement. Her heartbeat rose in pace, and her breathing increased. She looked around more carefully, and spotted the unmoving corpse of the animal, a wooden arrow shaft sticking out of the chest of its still form. Sighing with relief, Raven collapsed on the ground. Within a minute, all of the pain that she had experienced that night, but had been blocked out by her adrenaline, came rushing back to her. Stars exploded in front of her eyes, and darkness clouded her vision. Just before she fell unconscious, Raven made a vow to hurt any werewolf or other creature, even a human, which threatened to hurt another young child like her. When she got older, she would be someone that everyone feared, including her parents.

She would show _them_.


	7. Terror of the Transformation

**Chapter 6****– **_**Terror of the Transformation**_

_**

* * *

**_

Over the next few weeks, Raven flew great distances on the broom that she had claimed as her own. She took it slowly at first, thanking Merlin that she had thought to bring several rolls of bandages, but eventually started covering about a hundred miles a day, flying above the clouds, so as not to be noticed. She hadn't risked going into Diagon Alley, because she knew that they would be investigating anyone suspicious looking for her, not because they actually cared about what happened to her, but for the sake of publicity.

At first, Raven didn't have a particular destination in mind. She knew that if she asked any witch or wizard for help, they would just send her back to the Potters, and she would be back where she started, if not worse off. If she asked a Muggle for help, they would most likely send her to an orphanage, or ask what she was doing carrying a broomstick and a bow. But then again, some Muggles had heard of magic, mainly the families of Muggle-Born witches and wizards. It was then that she remembered that Lily Potter was a Muggle-Born witch, originally Lily Evans. Raven had heard Lily go on rants about her sister before, so she knew that Petunia Evans had married a man named Vernon Dursley. Raven knew for a fact that Lily hadn't visited her sister in years; she would never suspect Raven if she lived there. She wouldn't even be home half the time. _That is if they let her into their house_, Raven's mind whispered traitorously. She shoved the thought away.

Raven snuck into a Muggle town by the light of the waxing half moon and searched through an old phonebook that she had found in a recycling bin for the name Dursley. She opened it to the bottom of the 'D' section, and located the name Dursley. They lived in Surrey, a place on the opposite end of the country, at Number 4 Privet Drive. Raven sighed and shoved the phonebook into her bag, just in case she needed it again, and pulled up the hood of the back cloak that she had taken. She never knew when a witch or wizard might show up, and besides, it had a Temperature Charm on it, so it repelled the sweltering August heat. She mounted the broom again, and began flying South East.

The moon continued to wax, and Raven began feeling a small sense of fear, increasing by the day. What would happen to her? She knew the general idea, obviously, but would it hurt? Uncle Moony had never answered her when she asked. All she knew was that she was going to lose control of her mind. Raven shuddered at the thought.

On the day of the full moon, Raven felt exhausted, and was barely able to stay on her broom. She gave up at around noon, and focused on finding a place to lock herself for the night. Raven eventually found a large, abandoned house about a quarter of a mile from a Muggle Town called Little Hangleton. She entered the house, and put her bag in the living room. She spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the house and practicing her shooting. She had been getting better over the last four weeks, but she still needed a lot of work.

As the sun went down, Raven set the tool on the table and walked down a flight of stairs to the basement. She had found the room earlier, and it seemed to suit her needs; the walls were made of solid concrete, and there was only a couple of old pieces of furniture that she would most likely destroy. Raven locked the door, and sat down on a rickety old chair. She could feel the moon coming up; her head started pounding, and everything started gradually increasing in volume. Raven felt her remaining strength draining out of her, and her muscles started to ache. But even so, the transformation took her by surprise. It was a sudden pain shooting up her spine, followed by the straining of her bones.

_Crack._

Raven screamed as her arms and legs snapped in half, into thirds. She _felt_ her muscles tearing, and her intestines moving around inside of her. Raven retched, and winced as her senses increased; she could smell _everything_. Her hands were trembling and growing hair with a burning pain, and her scull was being pounded into a new shape. And through everything, Raven felt her consciousness slipping away…

The werewolf that was Raven howled at the newly risen moon.

Raven woke up to a pounding in her head, and intense pain thudding throughout her body. The next thing she noticed was the blood. It was everywhere; on her skin, in her hair, all over the floor, and even more was oozing through giant gashes in her skin. The room was torn apart, with bloody chunks of furniture strewn across the room. Raven gasped in horror, and coughed as blood flowed from above her teeth. She almost screamed as the movement caused a fresh wave of pain to overcome her. Raven took a couple of deep breaths, and the pain eventually faded, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to last all that long. She had gone through everything that she had randomly grabbed, and was surprised to find that she had brought a number of potions, including one that would be extremely helpful right now, a Pain-Relief Potion.

With tremendous effort, Raven heaved herself to her feet with the help of the chair she had sat in the night before, now extremely battered, with giant pieces missing. She winced. Raven slowly stumbled over to the door, fumbled to undo the lock, and began the torturous journey up the stairs. After several excruciating minutes, Raven reached the top of the stairs. As she stopped to catch her breath, she heard two teenage voices coming from the room where her stuff was.

"What do you think could have made those noises?" one of them asked.

The other one was silent for a moment, before saying: "I don't know. It could be one of the other boys playing a prank, but somehow I don't think so."

Of course, Raven thought. They were wondering what the noise was! Raven felt like smacking herself, and probably would have if she wasn't a human patchwork quilt, with lots of red and purple. She glanced down at herself, and noticed for the first time the state of her clothes. They were ripped and torn in many places, and were covered in bright, sticky blood. It probably wasn't a good idea to be seen –

Two almost identical screams broke Raven from her thoughts. The two boys had apparently finished in the living room, and had opened the door that she was behind.

Too late.

They were staring in horror at Raven's slightly hunched figure, and the blood dripping from it. Then, after two seconds in which all three of them stared at each other in expressions of shock, panic, or in Raven's case, vague amusement, the two boys bolted out of the house, no doubt trying to get away from the devil-like creature their minds had created. By lunchtime, they would be telling all of their friends that they had seen a fire-breathing monster. Muggles just didn't know how to accept the simplest explanation. Raven snorted. Werewolves were simple now? One thing was for sure; soon, everyone in the area would know by sundown, and no doubt more 'explorers' would come looking for the apparition. Raven couldn't stay here.

After downing a vial of Pain-Relief and putting on so many bandages that she looked like a mummy, Raven mounted her broom very carefully. She flew as slowly as possible, so as not to jolt herself and cause her pain to flare up again unexpectedly.

Throughout the day, the bloody gashes on Raven's arms, legs, chest, and face had faded into thick scars that were thinning by the hour. By the time the sun sank below the horizon, she was able to take the bandages off, and she could only see the scars if she was looking for them.

Raven reached Privet Drive about an hour after nightfall. The street was lit by a dozen streetlights, along with the innocently shining moon. Raven looked at the moon with revulsion; she would never look at it the same way again.

Suddenly, a movement caught her eye. A small boy, no older than five or six, was making his way down the street of Privet Drive, but what caught her eye was the man following him. He wasn't standing close enough to be the boy's father, but he was close enough for Raven to know that he was following the boy.

She squinted as the man suddenly increased his speed, and something glinted in the artificial light. Raven's eyes widened as the man raised a knife and grabbed the boy by the neck. Raven was horrified; it was almost like when she was being attacked in the forest, but the boy didn't have anything to protect himself. The promise that Raven had made to herself sprang to the front of her mind. Barely aware of what she was doing, Raven reached into the bag, pulled out her bow and a single arrow, and drew. She let the arrow fly, and it soared across the empty street, lodging itself in the man's shoulder. He yelped in surprise and pain, and released the pudgy boy, who got up and ran away as fast as his small, fat legs could carry him, screaming all the while.

Raven turned her attention to the boy's attacker. The brown-haired man was on the ground now, only half-conscious because of blood loss; he had ripped the arrow out of his shoulder. Ignoring him for the moment, Raven picked up his knife from where it was lying a few feet away. She let her hand brush softly against the cold metal, before letting it fall to the ground with a clatter; she hissed as a burning pain shot through her hand.

Raven looked from the silver knife and her reddening hand, to the pale, now unconscious form on the ground beside her, to the running and yelling child who was almost at the end of the street. Just what had her life become?


	8. Pretending to Perish

**Chapter 7**__**– **_**Pretending to Perish**_

As Raven stared down the street, lights began to flicker on in the neighboring houses one by one, no doubt woken up by the sound of the child's panicked screams. Raven looked around wildly; she hadn't thought this plan through at all. Obviously the boy was going to panic and scream, attracting the attention of other people. Raven desperately grabbed onto the man's limp arm, and attempted to haul him into an alley down the street, only about ten meters away.

It was fruitless, despite the short distance. The man was about 200 pounds of deadweight.

Raven cast her eyes around frantically; it was only a matter of time before someone walked out and saw her standing over a seemingly dead body. Five-year-old or not, she would be in serious trouble if anyone thought she killed anyone. Her bag brushed against her back as she spun around frantically, and Raven froze. Her eyes flickered between the bag and the man. Was it possible? She wasn't sure, but if it didn't work, she could make do with the – _her_ – invisibility cloak.

Raven quickly dropped the bag on the ground and cautiously pushed the body towards it, taking care to avoid the bloody arrow, and watching with horrified fascination as the fabric practically _swallowed_ the man. She stared, open-mouthed, until the click of a lock, unnaturally loud in her ears, jolted her out of her shock. Raven plunged a hand into her bag, squealing slightly as it touched something warm and sticky, feeling through the numerous contents; there were too many to have fit in the bag without magic. With a sigh of relief, Raven finally felt the invisibility cloak at the very bottom. She whipped it out and wrapped it around herself, the bag, and after consideration, the knife (she couldn't leave a knife lying around), just as the first people stepped outside their houses. She listened as the neighbors debated excitedly amongst themselves, and quietly shuffled along behind them.

They had just reached Number 4 when a loud crack echoed throughout the street. Raven spun around to face the source of the noise, her heart rate rising; that was the sound of a wizard Apparating. If she hadn't had spun as quickly as she did, she would have missed him. As it was, she only saw the man for a moment before he vanished, most likely under some sort of charm. She could still smell him though.

Raven blinked. Smell him? That was absolutely ridiculous. He was all the way across the street; how could she _smell _him? But she could; it was a combination of ash, pine, and – _lemon drops_? Raven paled; that was Albus Dumbledore. If anyone would be able to tell she was there, even under an invisibility cloak, it would be him. Raven nervously crouched further into the shadows of the hedges of Number 4, and listened to his footsteps as he approached the door of Number 5, the house directly across the street. Come to think of it, she should be able to hear or smell _anything_ at that distance.

Speaking of smell, she would have to do something with the body; it was starting to reek. But she couldn't just leave it lying around; people would wonder what would happen, and then investigations would happen… Lost in her thoughts, she almost missed it when the door opened a crack. It stayed open for a moment, and a shadow passed through the doorway, and it closed again.

Raven knew that she shouldn't, that she was most likely going to get caught, but she couldn't help but make her way across the street; the curiosity was too much to bear. She pressed her ear against the door, still covered by the invisibility cloak, and listened.

"Albus!" a woman's voice exclaimed, and Raven could here her as if she was standing right next to her. "It's about time! I'd been thinking you'd forgotten about me. Telling me to rent a house in Privet Drive for no apparent reason, then leaving me alone for a month! You know I never had a chance to take Muggle Studies! How was I supposed to deal with the neighbors?"

"I'm sorry Arabella," Dumbledore apologized sincerely, "but as you can understand, I've been being hounded by the Ministry for four weeks; this is the first opportunity I've had to get away."

"Oh dear," the woman called Arabella fretted. "They're still in such a panic about Raven Potter's disappearance, but no one has even thought of sending a search party for the poor girl." Raven listened harder to the conversation as she heard her name mentioned.

"That's actually why I asked you to come here. The couple at Number Four Privet Drive, right across the street, is Raven Potter's aunt and uncle."

Raven heard Arabella gasp. "You don't think…" she whispered.

"I think so. If it turns out that Raven Potter ran away of her own accord, perhaps jealous of her brother's fame, she might try to contact her aunt and uncle, not knowing that they are somewhat… anti-magic." Anti-magic? Well, that caused a bit of a problem…

"However," Dumbledore continued. "If it turns out that she was captured by rogue Death Eaters – I thank Rita Skeeter for that _wonderful_ option – whoever captured Raven might try to capture them as well –"

Raven stopped listening, her heart beating faster than before. She couldn't very well go to the Dursleys _now_. Not only did they seemingly hate magic, but if the woman would be looking for her, she wouldn't be thick enough not to notice a girl that looked like Raven Potter start appearing randomly across the street. She had to convince them somehow to stop looking, but it wasn't possible without her revealing herself. The only way that they would stop is if she was dead, and-

Raven froze. What if they _thought_ she was dead?

An idea popped into her head, but it was so crazy…

When she had gone through her bag at the old house, she had noticed a thick, bubbling potion, with a label reading 'Polyjuice, but she didn't know what it was, so she had just tossed it back in the bag. But now, she remembered what it was; her father – no, James – had been ranting about how bad it tasted a while ago (he had to work undercover in his job as an Auror).

Raven carefully stepped back from the house, where Dumbledore and Arabella were still talking. Eventually she reached the end of the street. She hadn't noticed before, but all of the streetlights had gone out when Dumbledore had appeared, so the street was pitch black.

Raven pulled off her invisibility cloak, and stowed it in her bag, pulling out anything else that she would need; she laid the body and the potion on the ground, looking around to make sure no one was watching. She giggled at what their faces would look like.

The first thing that Raven did was making sure that the man was still alive – the potion wouldn't work otherwise. He was, but just barely. Next, Raven reached a hand up and pulled out a couple pieces of her hair, her eyes watering as they came out by the roots. She carefully uncorked the bubbling potion and dropped her hair in, stepping back in surprise as the potion stopped moving, and changed colors smoothly, morphing into a bright, shining gold.

After a moment of shock, Raven carefully tipped the vial of gold into the man's mouth. At first he wouldn't swallow - he was unconscious after all – but Raven assumed that it worked after she forced his mouth closed; his skin began to bubble fiercely.

Startled, she took another step back, watching with horror, and a small amount of interest, as his skin changed into hers, his hair change into hers, and his height shrunk rapidly. In a matter of moments, Raven was looking at an exact double of her. After she got over the weirdness of it all, she walked back over placed a hand on his – her – Merlin, this was weird – chest.

There wasn't a heartbeat. Raven looked at the replica in shock.

Raven had known that the man was going to die, had to die in order for the plan, but she didn't expect it to happen right after taking the potion. She was planning on having time to prepare herself, even if she would have to do it herself. The, _suddenness_, was extremely shocking.

She sat down on the ground, her head still swimming with the fact that she had _killed_ someone. She deserved to be locked in Azkaban.

Raven sat under the slightly less than full moon and cried for the first time since running away.


End file.
